


off island, at sea

by RedLights



Category: Kong: Skull Island (2017), brie Larson's everything, tom Hiddleston's arms
Genre: 1960s, Aftermath of Violence, Angst and Porn, Boats and Ships, Cunnilingus, F/M, Feelings, Gratuitous Smut, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Light Angst, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Post-Canon, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, well fit military bodies yum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21702226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLights/pseuds/RedLights
Summary: Weaver and Conrad get off Skull Island. Also, Weaver and Conrad get off.
Relationships: James Conrad/Mason Weaver
Comments: 17
Kudos: 74





	1. noticing

**Author's Note:**

> in the grand tradition of horny movies that are frustratingly safe for work (á la man from u.n.c.l.e) kong: skull island made me think dirty things and left me completely unsatisfied. honestly, casting brie larson and tom hiddleston in those tight shirts and not even a kiss?? unconscionable. luckily, i was still high when the credits rolled and wrote a lil somethin.

> ([some visuals](https://userredlights.tumblr.com/tagged/skull-island)) 

She’d seen more than her share of senseless violence, homes and families destroyed on every side of the conflict; she’d had to assess and reassess her politics and her morals, and then do it again the next day. But as she listened to the whirring of the helicopter that would take them back to the ship, her mind was somewhere entirely new, trying to grapple with something entirely unbelievable. She had seen impossible things, experienced impossible things, and she would have to process all of that somehow. 

From the corner of her eye she could see Conrad staring out at the sky. Mason wasn’t sure if he qualified as something she had to process.

Conrad had guided her with a hand on her back or shoulder all those days in the jungle. Once, he’d pushed her back with a hand on her lower stomach. After Kong pulled her from the water he’d held her, nothing but thin, wet cotton between them. Climbing onto the helicopter she had lost her footing a little, barely even tripped; she quickly regained her balance, but Conrad’s hand was there wrapped around her hip, catching her from below before she even fell.

It would have been ridiculous to notice any of those things as they happened, and she hadn’t, because frankly every single other thing that happened on that island was more significant. But the island was over now, and as she reflected on it, she noticed it all.

* * *

Back on the ship, they were quiet. The first question an officer asked of them as they boarded went unfinished - there was something in their faces, probably, that said now was not the time for debriefing. They went their separate ways, the scientists hand in hand, the soldiers with their heads hung, Conrad with the ship’s officers (their de facto leader now, and obligated to give some kind of report). Mason headed for her cabin.

Memories swirled around Mason’s mind, too fresh for any conclusions to be drawn from the chaos. At the center of them all, a stillness: Kong’s eyes, meeting her own. She had felt only awe first, then profound sorrow. Mason recognized the look of an orphan, all alone in a hostile world. She had seen it too many times.

She showered slowly, and the mildewed stall should have felt luxurious after nights of grime and dirt. Maybe it did, and Mason was delusional to think part of her would miss the river, and the open sky. The horrors they’d seen coexisted in her mind with the technicolor auroras, the strange flowers, the vibrant jungle. The feeling of the rough Army-issued towel rubbing the water from her skin did precious little to soothe her mind, but she pretended it did.

Then to the mess for dinner, where she spotted Conrad, sitting alone and sipping slowly from a canteen. She plopped down across from him and slid his untouched tray towards her, and piercing blue eyes watched her gulp down whatever this food was (beans and some kind of meat?). She watched him watch her. She wasn’t the type of girl to pay attention to things like sparkly eyes and broad shoulders, but.... well, but.

She wiped her mouth after several bites and slid the tray back. He offered her the canteen with a quirk of his eyebrows and she took it from him. Whiskey. God, that felt good.Her eyes closed as she savored the burn of it in her mouth and her throat. She didn’t stifle the loud sigh after she swallowed—decently quenched thirst was too much of a luxury. When she opened her eyes, the expression in Conrad’s had changed. Her eyes locked onto his and she was standing, turning, heading for the hallway. 

He followed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at me writing for a two year old movie with no fandom! classic. the dirty stuff is coming, obviously, but i thought i’d create what little anticipation i can ;)


	2. realizing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the one person who asked me to finish this: here you go!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I just wanna note that I haven't written smut in AGES, and a sex scene with no dialogue starring people with only a movie's worth of characterization was not the easiest way to dive back in. I tried!

Mason felt him behind her as she pushed the doors open. She saw his shadow mingled with hers on the corrugated metal floor as they passed a burnt-out light on the way to her cabin. She hadn’t been feeling the awareness of his presence like this before, or hadn’t noticed it, but it was electrifying now. The halls felt too long, but she forced herself to walk more calmly than she felt.

She flipped the switch as she entered her cabin, the one caged wall light flickering on. She opened her mouth to form his name and his lips were already on hers.

Her hands went to his hair, wet like hers, and his did the same. As soon as she heard the door slam shut behind them he was backing her up against the wall. His chapped lips were soft, and nothing else was. His body was all hard lines as he pressed into her, hands falling from her hair to her hips where his thumbs curled under the waist of her jeans. Pinned by his lithe body she wrapped one leg around him. He captured her bottom lip with his teeth and ran his tongue over it; she moaned and met his tongue with her own, drawing his mouth back into a messy kiss. 

Conrad’s hand went to the back of her thigh and hitched her leg up around his waist, so his arm was under her thigh and his hand was on her ass. His fingers wrapped around to the center seam of her jeans and rubbed lightly over it, and their kiss broke when she gasped at the pressure against her clit. Conrad's mouth moved quickly to her neck and sucked at the tender skin below her jaw as he continued rubbing her through her pants, and Mason let her head fall back against the cabin wall. He kissed and sucked down her neck and she shuddered as his teeth ran gently over her collarbone. 

As his mouth continued down her chest, his hand snaked up to push under the hem of her white tank. She lifted her arms and he pushed it over her head and threw it behind him, then he pulled her lips back to his. Mason tightened her leg around his waist and rolled her hips against him, seeking friction. Conrad groaned into her skin as she ground against his arousal, but moved frustratingly away from her. She let her leg fall and bent to tug at her shoelaces as he kicked his boots off. This was efficient, matter-of-fact, business-like — they both needed something from each other, after everything. Mason wasn’t sure if she would call it comfort, but that was the closest word that would fit. 

Conrad grabbed her by the hips when she straightened up and yanked her jeans open. She stumbled out of them and he kissed her again, turning their bodies around and crowding her backwards. When she felt the cot against the back of her legs she fell back and he fell with her. 

Conrad's mouth returned to her collarbone and trailed down her chest. Her thin, worn-out bra didn't hide much, and he easily found her nipple and lightly closed his teeth around it. As he teased it he pulled her straps down over her shoulders, and when he broke away she lifted her torso enough to unfasten the bra and yank it off. When he lowered his head again the tip of his tongue flicked against her nipple, then he pulled it into his mouth and sucked gently. Mason was squirming beneath him as he repeated the torture on her other breast, then he was moving down her body and kissing a path down her stomach. He nipped at the skin of her hip and then ran his tongue over it before his mouth reached the hem of her panties. 

Mason was aching with anticipation when she felt his breath against her underwear, but he paused and glanced up at her. She realized he was asking permission. Seemed like a dumb question, at this point. As soon Mason nodded his open mouth was against her and she moaned. His tongue pressed against her clit, and his mouth and her arousal quickly soaked through the cotton. Her hands twined into his hair again as he teased her, the wet fabric creating torturous friction. 

“Conrad -" and she broke off with an involuntary shudder as his mouth left her. 

His breath was hot against the dampness of her underwear as he glanced up. “I think you’d better call me James, at this point.” 

She grinned at that and tightened her grip on his hair, and he breathed in sharply. “James. I think you’d better get rid of your clothes.”

He pressed one more open-mouthed kiss against her, then another below her belly button, echoing his path in reverse until he reached her lips. He captured them for a moment and pushed himself up. She followed, propping herself up on her elbows as the man between her legs sat back to pull off his shirt. Mason felt an eyebrow quirk up - the man‘s torso looked like it had been carved out by a sculptor - and she took him in. James tossed the shirt aside and she watched as his long, slim fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper. 

He saw her watching, of course, and the way he rolled his body back onto her with only his boxers left was clearly for her benefit. She could hear herself breathing heavily, needing the release almost more than she needed the pleasure. Her breasts pressed against the firm, taut muscles of his chest as he kissed her again. _Enough,_ she thought, _get inside me_. 

Like a mind-reader one long finger slipped inside her and crooked forward. When the pad of his finger pressed against that spot the pressure inside her intensified almost painfully, and she shivered as she moaned. Conrad slid another finger inside her and circled her clit with his thumb and she let out a whimper.

(Mason couldn't see this, with her eyes screwed shut in pleasure, but when she whimpered something almost feral went over Conrad's face. His jaw was tense and there was a dark, animalistic look in his eyes as he watched her squirm beneath him. It was everything he could do not to finish this right now, take her hard and come inside her, but he was craving a lot more than just release.)

She relished the strain in her muscles when Conrad’s free hand pushed one of her legs up. Before she could mourn the loss of his fingers he was entering her, sliding inside her in one slow, steady motion. She stretched around him and he was still a moment, letting her get used to him. “Now. Hard,” she gasped out, and he withdrew and slammed back into her.

He set a brutal pace, not so much the gentleman now, thrusting into her as she clung to him. Mason’s blunt nails dug into his back and her legs locked around his waist. She was getting so close, his cock filling her and dragging against her swollen clit with every thrust, could even hear how wet she was for him. When he reached down again to rub his thumb over her she fell apart. Her vision went black and her legs shook as she came, pleasure sparking through her body.

Conrad finished as she tightened around him, aftershocks of her orgasm still pulsing through her as he spilled inside her. Neither moved for a moment, loose-limbed from pleasure and too many kinds of exhausted. Mason’s breathing was slowing, a small smile on her open mouth. As soon as Conrad’s head hit the pillow next to her he was out.


End file.
